His Touch
by 6' j.s.m '9
Summary: He couldn't make his mind up. It was a good thing tbat he didn't have to... because Teresa had already made it up for him! Total Jisbon. Please rate and review.
1. It's The Least You Can Do

**Title:- **His Touch

**Summary:- **Teresa Lisbon is in need of medical attention, and Patrick Jane is more than happy to help. After all, it was his fault. What this leads to will be something that neither of them will ever forget. 1/2

**A/N:- **This is my very first fanfic, so let me know what you think. I realize that there is OOC, so if anyone has any tips as to how I can improve please review and tell me. Oh, one more thing... **ENJOY!**

**His Touch**

It was empty in the office. Everyone had gone home for the night... all except for Patrick Jane. There were a couple of reasons for this. One of them was that tonight (like almost every other night since he had started working on Teresa's team) he didn't feel like facing the red face on his bedroom wall; the face that would always remind him what had happened. Thinking about that face, and sleeping in that room had seemed to be the only thing that had kept him sane all those years. _Ironic_, he thought to himself. The other reason was that he actually wanted to get some sleep that night. And the couch in the office seemed the only place where he could do that.

So, there he was. Lying back on the couch, his eyes closed, yet he wasn't asleep. _Great_, he thought again. _The one time I actually _need_ to sleep, and my brain decides to work overtime!_ As he tried to will his brain to shut down (if only for an hour or two), he heard the door to the office creak open, and someone step into the room. He could hear their steps echo to his ears. He had a very good idea of who it was. The weight and force in each step they took; how there was no hesitation in their steps, even though the office was pitch-black. That one observation showed that this person knew the room so well, that they could walk through it blindfolded... which they might as well have been, seeing as there was no light in there.

Yes. In his mind, it could only be one person. Teresa. There was no question on the matter. Of course he was only guessing; still, 99% of the time, his guesses were right. There was only on time when he was wrong; one time when his judgement had failed him... Still, as many people had said (including himself, countless times), there was no point in dwelling on the past. The present was the important thing. The NOW, not the THEN. And NOW, he was curious as to why she was here, in the middle of the night. That was the real question, and he was surprised to see that he couldn't answer it. There were many possibilities; but that was just what they were; _possibilities_. He didn't, he _couldn't _and _wouldn't _work with possibilities. He had to make those _certainties. _

So, that was what he did. He got up off of the couch, and walked to where he heard her moving around. He found her in her office. He knew where she was, where she always was. This wasn't the first time that she had come back to work after sending everyone home. Of course, he had never made his presence known; it wasn't that he preferred to leave her alone, more the fact that she _wanted_ to be left alone, and he was happy to oblige. She knew he was there; she must have known. Still, tonight he felt in the mood to annoy Teresa. He didn't know what it was about Teresa that made her so deliciously wonderful to annoy; there was just something about her.

As he pushed the door open, he was met with a rather unusual sight. A smile crept onto his face at what was happening right in front of him. For the first time ever, he thanked the person who had decided to make Teresa's office so small, because it meant that her desk was _very_ near to the door. _Well, this could turn out to be an interesting night after all_. Suddenly, he didn't feel so tired anymore.

In front of him, unaware that she was being watched, Teresa was bending over, obviously looking for something in one of the desk drawers. She was also sticking her ass up in the air, just inches from where he was standing. If she took one step back, she would back up into him. _Well, that would be unexpected_. He tried to keep his mouth closed, tried not to laugh at the thought. Tried. And failed. He was never any good at showing self-control. It wasn't even his laugh; for once in his life, his voice box had decided not to join in. It was just a shame that he had to snort as well. And that she had to turn around; then gasp, step back and fall backwards over the desk. There was a resounding thump, and a curse.

She emerged from behind the desk; her hair had fallen around her face. And she was wearing the angriest face that he had ever seen. Of course, she had meant for it to scare him; instead it had the opposite effect. It gave him the urge to smile even more, and he was never one to disobey his urges. However, that smile seemed to only infuriate her more.

"Well, Jane. Are you just gonna stand there, or are you going to help me up?" Managing to silence himself for the moment, he stepped forward and offered his hand for her to take. As he helped her to her feet, he couldn't help but start to smile again. She gave him another look, showing just how infuriated she was. "And just what are you smiling at?"

"Nothing. Just the fact that the first time we meet outside of work hours, I seem to bowl you over without saying a word." That made her fume even more, and he smiled again; it seemed as though it would soon reach his ears. Once he made sure that she was steady on her feet, he pulled his hand away... only to find that it was smeared with blood. Confused, he looked back up to meet her eyes, and saw a thin cut across her forehead. Seeing his gaze move up and widen slightly, she reached a hand up, and touched it to her forehead. When she drew it back and saw the blood on her fingers, she looked back up at Jane. She was frowning.

"Well, thank you Jane. This is just great. Not only do I have loads of paperwork to get through, but on top of that I have to worry about a cut to my forehead, and a..." she looked down at her hand. "... and a gash to my hand. Well, this day just keeps getting better and better."

Patrick was still smiling, though it had shrunk considerably. "I am so very sorry, Teresa. Let me help you," he offered his help as she looked around for the first-aid kit that was somewhere on her desk. He found the bag, and held it in front of her face, pulling it away when she made a grab for it. "It's the least you could do to let me help you." He didn't wait for an answer; instead he took her good hand and led her over to the couch he had been laying on just a few minutes ago.

"What do you mean, it's the least _I_ can do?" He smiled at the outraged look on her face. "You were the one who made me fall over the desk; you might as well have pushed me!" He opened the first-aid kit, and acted as if he was no longer paying attention. He was, of course. He decided to have a little fun at her expense. He made her sit on the couch, while he kneeled down on the floor in front of her. The look on her face showed that she was confused, and the smile on his face only made her more so.

"Give me your hand," he said it politely, but with an underlying authority that startled Teresa for a moment, so that she didn't realize that he had taken her hand in his. He unclasped her fingers from the middle of her hand, revealing the thin red gash on her palm. He looked at the wound for a few moments, before bending down to pick up a tube of peroxide. He applied a small amount to his finger, before gently rubbing it against her palm. Teresa must not have noticed what was happening, because as soon as the gel hit her hand, she let out a gasp.

"Sorry about that. Should have warned you that it would sting a little." He took her gasp as a reaction to the peroxide. The expression on her face told him that she was thankful for that; he was a little confused as to why, though. She made a move as if to move her hand out of his grasp, though it could have just been a flinch.

As he continued to rub the peroxide in, it seemed as if a thought came to her mind. "What are you doing here this late, Jane?" A smile crept over his face, as he reached down to pick up a piece of cotton wool, to remove the excess gel on her palm.

"I should ask you the same question." He looked up to meet her eyes, and saw something he had never noticed before; a slight twinkle. He waited there, cotton wool poised just above her hand, waiting for her answer. He had known then why she had gasped; how could he not? It was so obvious; the expression on her face, her body language; it told him everything he needed to know. It intrigued him as to why she had done it. He could almost see her brain working; the dilemma she was facing. She didn't want to answer his question, but she was also wanted him to continue touching her skin. It was a choice between opening herself up to Jane's scrutinies, or keeping quiet and him stopping. She chose the former.

"I was just... getting started on some paperwork," she waited for him to resume tending to her wound. However, that point never came.

"No, Teresa. That's not the truth, is it?" He let the question hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "You're here, because you couldn't face staying in an empty house. So you came back to work, because it's the only place that doesn't remind you of how lonely you are." He was always so blunt; it would have annoyed her, as would have the fact that he had used her first name. Except it hadn't, because he had he started to dab her wound gently with the cotton wool.

"So; now I've answered yours, I think you should answer mine." Her eyes closed slightly at the gentle touch of his fingers as they guided the cotton wool along her palm. He smiled at this gesture; this night was turning out to be more fun than he could have hoped.

"Well, I couldn't sleep." He said it so matter-of-factly, that at first it seemed as if it didn't register in her brain. "This seems to be the only place that I can sleep." Once the excess gel had been removed, he placed the cotton wool to one side, and picked up one of the bandages, and began to wrap it around her palm.

He realized that he had a gentle touch; women had commented on it all his life; especially his wife. It was strange that Teresa chose that moment to voice her opinion why he was here. "It's because of your wife, isn't it?" He looked up at her, a strange look on his face. "The fact that you can't sleep? That's why you can't sleep, right?"

A small smile dawned on his face, as he tried to steer the conversation away from his wife. "Actually, I think it has more to do with the fact that I've been on this team for quite some time now, and I still don't know anything about you." He wanted to get back in control, and this was the only way he knew how.

Teresa was confused at the sudden change of topic; it clearly showed on her face. "Sure you know things about me. You probably know about me than I do!"

He moved his gaze back to her hand as he finished tying the bandage together. "I don't think so. I mean, I know that you look best in green, because it accentuates your eyes," he smiled at the look on her face that he knew was there; he didn't look up. He didn't need to. "I know that the way you relax is to curl up into your couch with a glass of wine and a book. Anything to take your mind off what happens at work. I know that you haven't had a date in months..." he felt her tense at his words and at his touch; he was gently stroking the pal of her hand. He knew she could feel it through the bandage. His plan was working! Now, to go in for the kill. "... and I know that, although you find me annoying, obnoxious and sometimes you hate my guts, I know that, right now, you're loving the feel of my skin on yours, and are finding it hard to resist the urge to jump up off of this couch and kiss me."

There he had said it. Now all there was to do was to look at her face; he knew there would be anger in her face; that was why he did it. Teresa was so much more beautiful when she was angry; the slight flush to her cheeks, the way her eyes seemed to glitter... _God, it sounds as if I annoy her just to see those things_. Well, that was just it. Lately, his feelings towards Teresa had become... _complicated_. He wasn't thinking about his wife so much anymore... at least, not when he was with Teresa. It seemed as if all he was thinking about was... well, _her_! Every moment he was with her, and when he wasn't, he was bombarded with thoughts of her. And those thoughts weren't exactly what you would call 'clean'.

As he looked up to meet her gaze, banishing those thoughts from his mind, he was met with an unexpected expression on her face. It wasn't anger; anger wasn't even close. There seemed to be every expression that he could think of, all mixed up into one. Yet, there was also something else; something raw. Something that looked like... but no, it _couldn't_ be... _could it_?

She took a deep breath, and leaned over, so now they were so close that their lips were practically touching. The only thing he could see now were her eyes; her emerald green, perfectly round eyes. Eyes that seemed to tell everything and nothing all at once. They filled his vision. He had the sudden urge to close the space between them even further, to finally feel her lips with his. Still, this was one urge that he couldn't act on; at the very least, he would leave with something broken... or missing... or he wouldn't leave at all.

"I've been waiting a long time for you to say that." His eyebrows shot up immediately, and his eyes grew so wide that it was a wonder they didn't fall out of his head. She moved her hands up to his arms. "Because it means that I can finally do this." She leaned in closer, putting more pressure on his upper arms. Her eyes fluttered slightly, until they closed fully. He didn't know what to do. Should he move away? Should he kiss her? He couldn't make his mind up.

It was a good thing that he didn't need to... because Teresa had already made it up for him. She leaned in closer, so that her lips brushed his, before... pushing him to the ground.

-End Of Part One-

**A/N:- **So, what did you think? Next part should be up soon. Please rate and review.


	2. What Does It Look Like I'm Doing?

**His Touch**

_He couldn't make his mind up. It was a good thing that he didn't need to... because Teresa had already made it up for him!_

Before he knew what was happening, Patrick Jane was falling backwards towards the floor. _Well, that was unexpected_. He hardly knew what he was doing when he grabbed hold of Teresa's arm; that move meant that when his back hit the floor, she fell on top of him. _As was that!_

All he heard was a gasp from her lips before she fell on top of him, winding him for a moment. When he did get the air back into his lungs, it was used to fuel his laugh. He had no idea why he was laughing; if ever there was a time not to laugh, this would be it! Teresa seemed to think so too.

"Why the hell are you laughing?" Even though he could tell she was still angry, she couldn't stop a slight smile start to spread across her face. _Well, she has told me that my smile is contagious – annoyingly so_. She made to get up, but was stopped by Patrick's hand on her back. He was exerting pressure; it was only a little, but it was enough to make sure she stayed where she was. The look on her face told him everything that was going through her mind. "Jane, what are you doing?" There was a slight fear in her eyes; fear of what he was doing? Or what she thought he was going to do?

With his other hand, he reached up to stoke her cheek. Without realizing she seemed to almost lean into his hand. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked her. He looked into her eyes, trying to discern what she was thinking. He found it strange that she was the only one that he couldn't read. It was one of the things that made her so intriguing to him. He hoped that today would be the point when he finally got to see what made her tick.

A lock of Teresa's hair fell over her face. He moved to put it back behind her hair. He decided to take this opportunity (when would he get another one like it?), and reached behind her head, pulling her in for a long overdue kiss. She had little choice in the matter. Like he'd said before, he always had trouble controlling his urges.

As their lips met, it was like an electric shock. Her lips were soft on his, as was their kiss, soft, with an underlying passion that both of them felt. _Our first kiss!_ That gave him another electric shock. The sensations travelled throughout his whole body, and he wanted more than anything else to grab her and take her then and there. But he wouldn't do that. It wasn't in his nature. Plus, he wanted this to last; the feeling of her lips on his. He could have layed there forever, with Teresa in his arms, her body against his. His body was now so sensitive that he could feel every part of her on his body, just from this kiss. He could feel her breasts pressing slightly against his chest as he pushed her towards him; he could feel her heart beating erratically in her chest; he could feel her hands fisting in his hair.

That must have meant that she could feel every part of his body as well; that she could feel his hand against her back, pressing her flush against him; feel his hand softly caressing her cheek. Had there ever been a kiss as amazing as this? Had there ever been a kiss where both people felt a connection such as this? (If you find one, then let me know!)

They broke apart finally, both of them gasping for air. Neither of them said a word; most likely because they were unable to! He could see the pulse point in her neck pulsating rapidly; he wanted so much to kiss it, to take it into his mouth and suck on it; he could imagine the moan that she would emit, and the blood rushed from his head to his... _OH SHIT!_

His eyes widened as he felt his jeans suddenly become too tight. _Great! Just Great! Your first kiss with the first woman you've had feelings for since your wife; and you've resorted back to being a horny teenager! God, even as a teenager, I wasn't this horny!_ Why had he chosen _today_ to wear jeans?! It seemed as if their moment had gone, had passed them by. That was when Teresa did something that took him completely by surprise.

"Jane? Is there something you want to tell me?" The smile on her face told all; it was more of a smirk than a smile, and an evil one at that! Patrick just lay there; he couldn't say anything. Well, what was there to say?_ Yes there is Teresa. Since our kiss, I seem to have reverted back to when I was a teenager. _God, just thinking about his first time with a girl would have turned anyone off of him! He was a _mess_!

That didn't seem to be the case with Teresa. On the contrary, if anything, it seemed to _turn her on_. She smiled that devilish smile again, and and wiggled her hips slightly; that movement alone earned a small groan from Patrick, a groan he didn't even know he was holding. "Did I find something that Jane likes?" He nodded in reply. Only in his wildest dreams had he envisioned this. So, he decided to become the Patrick Jane in his dreams. He smiled, a mirror of hers and grabbed her hips, pressing her flush against him.

"And it's all for you, Teresa," he earned a groan from her this time, though it was mainly covered up by his lips on hers. When they separated, he stroked her cheek. "You have no idea what you do to me." As an answer, she only smiled, and leaned in for another kiss, pushing her hips into his. The groan he gave out would have woken the whole building... that is, if anyone was asleep.

"I have some idea," was all she could say before he grabbed her lips again in a bruising, spine-melting kiss, rolling them both over so that Patrick was now on top of Teresa. Then his hands started to wander. With his lips still on hers, his hand moved down to the neck of her shirt, and began to undo the buttons. Before either of them knew it, her shirt was unbuttoned, and a wonderful feeling greeted him when he ran his hand back up her stomach to the bottom of her breasts. The feeling of _silk_.

He smiled into their kiss, before leaving her lips, and kissing his way down her neck, pausing only to suck softly on her pulse point. When he left, there was a slight red mark on her neck where his mouth had been moments before; marking her as _his_. As he leaned back, he saw that she was wearing an emerald green bra. His first thought was: _I wonder if she's wearing matching underwear_. Well, he was a man, after all!

"See something you like, _Patrick_?" The extra emphasis on his name made his jeans grow even tighter. He found that it was a struggle just to think coherent thoughts. Instead he trailed his fingers along the bottom of her bra (earning shudders from Teresa).

"Yes, but they're being covered up. I'm going to have to remedy that." He sat up, pulling her into his arms in another scorching kiss, wrapping his arms around her. She shrugged off her shirt, giving him better access to her back before moving her arms to his front. She began to take off his vest and then his shirt, as his fingers unclasped her bra.

As he shrugged off his shirt and vest, she removed the bra straps from her shoulders, leaving them both naked from the waist up. They sat there for mere moments, though it seemed like forever, studying each other. Then they lunged. Limbs became entangled, their mouths became one, each one fighting for dominance over the other. Each one desiring to feel every part of the others' exposed skin.

His lips moved from hers to her neck, leaving hot, wet kisses whenever they touched her skin. Her hands moved to his hair, bunching it up in her hands. _His_ hands travelled down her body, gliding over her breasts (he felt her nipples harden just at his touch) before moving down to the waistband of her trousers. Even here, he could feel the heat she was giving out. _All for me_, he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, her hands had moved to his front; they travelled over his chest, gliding over the muscles that seemed to be chiseled there, and moved down to the front of his jeans; more importantly to the prominent bulge that was pressing into her hip. She gingerly cupped it in her palm, and felt him buck into her hand, urging her on, though he wasn't aware of his actions (or he didn't _seem to be_). She smiled, and began to unzip his jeans, and to free him from the barrier.

While this was going on, he had unzipped her pants and was in the process of pulling them down over her hips. He was delighted to see that he had been right; she was wearing matching underwear. He couldn't help the smile that formed over his lips... or the moan that came out of them when he felt Teresa's hand cup his erection in her hand. He brought his mouth back to her breasts, wrapping his mouth around one erect nipple; one of his hands grazed her panties (though how that scrap of material could be classed as underwear he would never know!) and began to stroke her. Almost immediately, her hand closed over him, earning another buck from him. His other hand went to stop hers from pushing him any further over the edge. "Next time," was all he managed to say before he moved onto her other breast, giving it the same treatment as its twin.

Removing her pants, while she removed her boxers, he moved his lips back to hers, kissing her gently. He pulled away, and looked at her; asking her with no words whether she still wanted this. She smiled at him. Well, that as good an answer as any! He moved back to her lips, kissing her hungrily, just at the moment that he gently pushed into her. Her moan seemed to fill his mouth, and he groaned back into hers at the feel of her surrounding him. They stayed that way for what seemed like forever, until Teresa removed her lips from his, saying "Well, are you just going to lie there, or are you going to do something about it?"

Instead of answering with words, he decided to answer with actions; after all, they were both at the point where sentences no longer made any sense. He ground his hips into hers, just as she had done with him. The moan that came from her lips was enough to make him fall over the edge right there; but he didn't. He had learned that he always put the woman first in situations such as this... granted, there had only been a _few_ women who had been in this situation, but that didn't matter. He found that it was more pleasurable for her... more pleasurable for _him_ as well, actually!

He began to slowly move inside of her, capturing her lips again. He had also learned that he was slightly obsessed with lips. He didn't know why; he just found that when he was with a woman, he was constantly kissing them. A kiss had a lot of emotion behind it, and could be interpreted far better than words. Like this one, gentle, but with a growing intensity that threatened to engulf them both. Not that he was complaining! _Listen to me! Here I am, making love to the first woman I have had real feelings for since my wife, and __I'm analyzing the symbolism and meaning of a kiss!_

Those thoughts were soon pushed out of his mind, by Teresa's legs going around his waist, giving him more access, and also as a silent plea for him to go faster. He was happy to oblige. (Well, who wouldn't?) As their pace quickened, so did their pulse and the intensity of their kiss. Her hands were around his neck, while his were on her hips. By the way she was clinging to his back, he knew she was close; he was as well, but he wanted to see her when she finally let go, and lost control for the first time in... well, in a _very long_ time!

When he felt that she was just moments away, he slowed down before finally stopping. As he moved away from her lips, he could see the confusion on her face, mingled with disappointment. What was he doing? _What am I doing?!_ Then he realized, and smiled as the revelation came to him. Now, there was more confusion than disappointment on her face. He shifted minutely, trying to find the right spot. When he thought he found it, he drew her bottom lip into his mouth, before moving completely out of her.

He waited until she closed her eyes before pounding back into her, burying himself in her up to the hilt. Her eyes opened wide as she finally fell over the edge; this time there was nothing to stop her moan from filling the whole room. That moan was the final thing that sent him over the edge too. He could feel himself emptying into her. Their groans mixed into one that seemed to fill the entire building. Weeks of denial, sexual frustration and sheared glances across the corridor. Add in Teresa needing medical attention, and Patrick more than willing to play Doctor, and this is what you got. Two people, their limbs tangled together, a fine sheen of sweat on their bodies, with a satisfied (and sated) look on each of their faces.

Patrick reached behind him and grabbed the blanket from the couch. He wrapped it around them both, stroking along Teresa's extra-sensitive body as he did. Placing a small kiss to her lips, he just layed there with her, just listening to their breathing and heartbeats. After a few minutes, she turned on her side to face him, her fingers absentmindedly playing the muscles on his chest, almost as if they were a musical instrument.

"Did you mean for that to happen?" He looked at her, softly caressing her cheek as he answered her question.

"I had absolutely no intention of this happening." He tried to look as honest as he could; he thought it had worked, until she answered back, and then asked him a question that he had no idea how to answer.

"Liar." She moved over towards him, so that their bodies were now flush against each other; her hand had moved back down, and he could feel himself growing hard again at her caress. "Now, what's this about 'next time'?"

**A/N:- **So, what did you think? Tell me if you think there should be a sequel. Please rate and review! They make me happy :-)


End file.
